Standard of California, on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations
throughout the west invites you to let George do it. Valley Sunset, another adventure of
George Valentine. Personal notice, changes my stock and trade. If you worry about your life,
but worry even more about your death, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Write full details.
Dear Mr. Valentine, I mustn't let anyone know that I'm writing to you, but they're all busy
repairing one of the winery trucks tonight and I've sneaked off to the safety of my childhood dollhouse.
They say that some people can feel death like dogs can or coyotes. Well, I know that my uncle will die
sooner or later, but what if my own brother should kill him or if he should kill my brother?
Mr. Valentine, it's like when the dust lies in the grapevine so thick you can't tell what's underneath,
whether there's ripening fruit or a rattlesnake. But there is something horrible that I can't find
out alone because after all I am only a prisoner in this strange world and it's signed Rachel
a gadget nick. Any address, Brooksie? Yeah, well let's see it's on the back with the with a little
map. The closest city is Fresno, I guess. 60 or 70 miles, care of Valley Sunset wineries.
Because after all I am only a prisoner in this strange world. Valley Sunset.
Sunset, Valley Sunset. What do you expect out of Hades, my friend? Road signs? Hades?
Sure, sure. Whose hinges it is hotter than. Yeah, look I'm sorry I flagged you down. But why?
I'm happy. I noticed you were carrying very valuable freight. What's that? Hello goddess.
Oh hello. On a day like today you look better than a cold beer. Yes, well get your foot off the
brass rail. What's the matter? Haven't I got time to say any more before your boyfriend hits me?
Okay, okay smart boy. Just cool off and tell us where we are. The world, United States, heaven,
Valley Sunset. What? A gadget nick property. You've been on it for the last five miles. Yeah,
but we haven't seen the winery or the ranch house. You won't for another five miles straight ahead.
Oh I see a small type farm. Yes indeed, the kingdom of limbo irrigated by the sweat of man
dedicated to the sweat of the great. Do you ever make sense? But of course not, I'm a poet.
My name is a gadget nick. Well, Mr. Gadget. It's a common name. Lots of us around. Mr. Gadget,
aren't there any uh newses right here on your ranch? Women? Yes, exactly one dear lady.
The beautiful Rachel. Rachel a gadget nick? The romantic type too. Your sister? No, no indeed.
Niece. But I'll tell you a tragic secret my friend. Rachel is only 14 years old.
My childhood has passed me, Mr. Valentine. I'm not like other girls. I had to make you think I was a
woman to get you here. I had to make you realize my awful plight. Yes, your awful plight. Now look,
Rachel, you said you were a prisoner. What do we find? You live in a beautiful house. You've got one
of the finest record collections I've ever seen. But nobody comes to the house. The dress you have on is
at least sex with Favonius. But I don't like the color. I didn't pick it out. It isn't proper for a girl my age.
Who says that? That's the way it was in his old country I guess. He picks out everything for everybody.
He? Joseph, the oldest, the head of the family. The old-fashioned patriarch. My uncle, Mr. Valentine.
You're... Now don't tell me Joseph has black hair and is tall and has a crooked smile.
No, no, no. That's my uncle Silvio Agadjenik. Silvio? Wouldn't you know, the poet. He is a poet.
At least he had a poem published once. Uncle Joseph is awfully proud of you. Yeah, well Rachel...
Silvio does lots of things. He doesn't waste his time on the farm. And you know, he's the only one
who ever pays any attention to me. He's a romantic kind of person. Sort of exciting, don't you think?
Yeah, now look, you said your uncle was going to kill your brother or vice versa. Uncle Joseph and
my brother Demetrio. But you haven't said... Demetrio's different too. He never talks. He just
works and he hates. Then he went to agricultural college. He what? Oh never mind. Why? Why? What's
happened that makes you think all this? The way they've looked at each other the past few days.
Demetrio and Joseph and poor Silvio. It's nothing definite, Mr. Valentine, but I feel it.
Wait, look Rachel. And it feels horrible. It does. I'm not inventing it. I'm not lying. I don't want it
to be there. It's like my music, Mr. Valentine. That record was Debussy and it's wonderful. I love it.
But I don't want to now. Listen, this is the only record like this I've got. I want to go swimming
in the irrigation ditches like the other kids around here do. I want to see a football game at
the Union High School. I want to be like the other children. Rachel!
Oh Joseph, no don't. Uncle Joseph, please, please don't.
It is not good music. Oh uncle. You know it yourself, Rachel. Now stop sounding like a circus
organ in a rainstorm. I can't say that I blame her, Mr. Valentine. Young ladies are not talking to strangers.
Oh for the love of heaven. And strangers are not talking to young ladies.
Now get out of here, Rachel. Get out. All right, uncle, yes.
There is a good pigeon. So you're Joe Oganjianek, huh?
Yeah. The big boss. The big fist. The biggest fist I've ever threw a ten gallon cask.
Who are you? The name. You talk to the girl. Why? Take it easy, Marty Joe. Just relax.
We're here asking questions because, well, I'm a writer.
You're a what? Yeah, sure. That's it. I'm interested in wineries. That's it.
Joe Oganjianek, a fool, no? A writer, huh? A real writer. Well, I'm just a...
Valley Sunset has never been honored before, Mr. Valentine. This is Miss Brooks.
Yes. Forgive my overalls. So much dirt in the hands is bad, dirt in the eyes is worse, but
a little dirt in the soul is good. Don't you think?
Come again? Yeah, there is music, Mr. Valentine. Music inside of a man who lifts the dirt and
tends the vines. This is something to write about. Yeah, I can imagine.
I will show you the poem. I will show you the poem in the magazine of my boy, my own boy.
Your boy? Silvio, my baby brother. Yes, my very baby brother. I raised from a baby.
These others, they were the name, but they are nothing.
What's the matter? You think I am crazy, old farmer? No, no, I don't, Joe.
Then you stay. You will visit the Valley Sunset, huh? You're sure he wouldn't be in the wedge?
Oh, you're sure there's nothing else special going on?
What is important and like, Mr. Valentine? Yes, no, no, no, beauty. Who cares about anything else?
You will stay, huh? Mr. Ragazzinecchi couldn't keep us away.
But the first one thing to show you, the poem here, my Silvio's poem. You can tell me.
You are a writer. Let me see it, George. He has had everything, Silvio. There must be someone to
say these things that I feel that the earth feels. Nuts. I'll show you how the earth feels.
Silvio, let me smell your breath. Oh, dry up, grandmother. I just don't want them to know how
bad it is. That's... Oh, you don't have to. Yes, yes, I do. Yes, I do, goddess, I do.
It stinks. I'm smart enough to know that, but I'm also smart enough to be pretty good at cards and
pretty good at women and pretty... No, no, please, Silvio. Excuse him. Excuse me.
Excuse me? Why should anybody excuse me? Who excuses you? Do you know what this old woman did
this morning, Mr. Valentine? He fixed it so I can't leave it. Be quiet. Be quiet.
Quiet. Young people must be guarded from trouble. Trouble! Trouble!
That's the funny part, Mr. Valentine. It's he who's in trouble. Silvio. Sure. Sure.
The little man is out there now, big brother. He's waiting in his car to see you.
I did not you say so. Excuse me, please.
Look at the lion run. Look at him. An all for a man not five feet tall without any hair and a pale
freckled face. Suppose you clear that up, Buster. Who is the little man? What's going on here?
What kind of trouble is Joe in? How should I know, writer? I'm just baby brother.
I don't know any little man who carries a gun.
Hey, look, your name is Demetro, isn't it? Yes, of course, Mr. Valentine, but I'm busy right now.
My uncle goes to town on Mondays and I've got to see him first. Joseph? Well, I think he's talking to
some man outside. I don't care. I've got to see him first. Well, as you said, Silvio suggests.
Silvio's a loafer. He doesn't know a wine vat from a pickle barrel. Only, why don't you two tell the
truth? You're not interested in wineries. You're interested in us. Look, all we want. Sure, sure,
I know. You're friends of Rachel's. Okay. Well, I'm not afraid to tell you what's going on.
Joe sold some property. Oh, well, what's that got to do? Family property. It belongs to all of us.
It's like selling a hand. Only a few days ago, Joe goes out on the QT to raise himself 20,000 bucks.
Get back to the fields. Get back onto the fields where you belong. Now, wait a minute.
I am head of this family. You will do what Joe says. And I wanted to ask you. I do not have to
explain to you anything. It is my family, mine. One of the boys was cleaning your car with his
dry blood on it. Hey, cut it out. Oh, George, stop him. Oh, George, you'll kill him. Get off him.
Get off him, you crazy fool. You'll kill him. No, stop him. Uncle Joe. Rachel, get out of here.
Uncle, he's gone. He's gone. Get out of here, pigeon. This is no place for you. What did you say, kid?
What's the matter? He's gone, Mr. Valentine. It's Silvio. He's run away.
No. No. No. Silvio can't go. He knows what will happen. It was fixed so he can't run away.
No, he hasn't. Silvio. Silvio, where are you? Silvio.
We'll return to tonight's adventure of George Valentine in just a moment.
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Now back to tonight's adventure of George Valentine. Valley sunset where the heat and
dust of September stretch from miles and miles over the vineyards of Joe Agagenik.
You call yourself a visiting curious writer, but you still have a hard time finding out about the
strange old-fashioned family that lives there. The Agageniks, whose apparent love of the soil
is only exceeded by their hatred of each other. Well, Brooks, here the big boy's left for Fresno.
What? Yeah, Joseph. Business at the bank or something. Goes every Monday.
So we can look around his room all we want. Well, George, how's Demetro?
I don't know. Bones broken or anything after the beating he took. Well, what was the matter with Joseph?
He was insane. Oh, I don't know, Angel, but the big guy's so upset he doesn't know what he's doing.
See, George. What I found in the waste basket. What is it? It says, dear Joe.
Yeah, let me see that. George, it's a good by note from Sylvia. Yeah.
Dear Joe, so long, big brother. You'll never see me again. I've taken the $500 emergency payroll money
you keep in your desk. You will never see it again either. Signed, Sylvia.
Well, so he stole some money before he went. But it's only $500 and it doesn't tell us about...
No, no, no, Brooks. See, wait. Look at that note again. The wording, the crude sentences, misspelling.
Look, Joe. Yeah, yeah. Look on this other stuff. Old invoices. And the ledger's the same.
It's all the same handwriting, Angel. Joe's handwriting. Yeah. He wrote that farewell note to himself.
Yeah, but why? Think about it, Brooksie. It's just possible that the light is finally rising on Valley Sunset.
Mr. Simpson, you represent the law in this country and
uh, fried blood on a friend, it could mean hit and run, couldn't it? Mr. Valentine, a hard hand
named Sudsy was wandering around on the highway. Didn't know what hit him. Didn't you check around,
Sheriff? Would have, but up comes Joe Agadjenik. Says it must have been him. Remembered hitting
something. Okay, okay. So Joe Agadjenik hit a guy named Sudsy. That's all there was to it.
Was there any trouble? Any charges preferred? Why should there be? Everybody knows Joe.
Oh, maybe he paid the hospital bills and bought Sudsy a few cigars. We kept it quiet. A few cigars.
Would all that cost as much as $20,000? $20,000? All right, then try this one.
Is Sudsy by any chance a little guy not five feet tall without any hair and a pale freckled face?
A little man who might carry a gun? No.
Oh, Mr. Simpson, you're a well of information. Take it easy. Take it easy. Who works for him, though?
Huh? Ty Wendell's the little guy. Guy Sudsy works for him. Ty Wendell, huh?
But he's got a permit for the gun. Owns a little road house out here to shake the yokels.
Nice guy. You don't like him? Oh, I knock over his slot machines once a month.
Best I've ever been able to do. Why, got any ideas?
Slot machine. How'd you like that?
Three lemons.
Oh, well. Mr. Wendell. Hey, Mr. Wendell.
Hello. Mr. Wendell, work. Three lemons for you, too, huh?
But didn't you see anyone, George? Oh, no, no, I didn't. But, Angel, the guy's pockets were inside out.
His wallet was missing, only he still had on his watch and a diamond ring. Well, George, Ty Wendell
had lots of enemies who might have... Sure, sure, and I hope that's just the way it is.
But I can't help remembering that lots of people wouldn't be knowing about a certain $20,000.
Oh, yeah. I don't want to talk to Simpson until I know where that dough is, what it was for.
Because if things are what they seem to be, then the murder was figuring on a perfect crime.
And, Brooksie, there's only one way to break it. Oh, George. Yeah, it's to break a heart.
Hello, Joe. I've been waiting for you. Is he home, Mr. Valentine? Has he come home? Silvio? No.
But this car here on the drive, is that Mr. Simpson?
Ah, yeah, yeah. He just stopped by for a visit, that's all.
You're pretty late getting back from Fresno. I stopped on the road and talked to a friend.
I guess you're pretty used to seeing the sheriff's car around here, aren't you?
Why not? Valley Sunset is a small world. I guess you're used to seeing lots of police cars.
Mr. Valentine, please, I'm very tired. I guess your brother is almost always in trouble, isn't he? Please, please, no.
Now listen to me, Joe. A week ago, a guy named Sudsy was swacked on the road.
He was hit run until you showed up to take the blame for it, to hush it up. Get away from that door.
But you don't drink, you're not careless. You would have known what you hit. It was Silvio, wasn't it?
He was the one who could have been nailed for drunk and reckless hit run, prison, everything else.
I'm going in. I said, listen to me. I just wanted to know one thing, Joe.
Did the guy Sudsy work for figure it out, Ty Wendell? He's a crook anyway, Joe.
Did he come around to you to ask for blackmail for twenty thousand dollars?
Mr. Valentine, I gave Ty Wendell his cash this morning.
Yeah, I was afraid it was that way.
It was the only way. But selling some vineyards to raise the money, like my arm, piece of my soul.
Yeah, that's why you finally got tough with the boy, isn't it?
You said you fixed it so Silvio couldn't run away.
How else could I make something with such clay? The boy will come back, Mr. Valentine. You will see.
Joe Agachinak will make a man of him, a poet of him.
The things I cannot express, my baby.
Hold it, Joe. The way you fixed it. I read that letter you wrote to yourself in your wastebasket.
Of course. I must show Silvio the words that I wanted, the words for him to write.
Wait a minute. You made him write a letter just like it?
He confessed to a crime he did not commit, to stealing money from my desk.
So any time he decided to leave, you could also bring him back by mailing his letter to yourself,
showing it to the police so they'd be your bloodhounds.
He knew I would do it. Joe does not lie. He knew I would mail it from Fresno.
Yeah, but did you mail it?
I do not lie. The first thing this afternoon by special delivery.
The first thing this afternoon. And a guy can't be in two places at once.
So nobody would ever suspect Silvio.
Joe can raise funds. Joe will protect his baby.
Now look, you've got to understand something, Joe.
You've got to understand it before tomorrow morning when that mailman comes.
There's a time when things happen you can't protect him from. You can't use that letter to him.
You are a fool, a fool. The world is a fool. I got the letter.
I got the letter. What?
The man I talked to on the road, the special delivery. He has given me the letter.
I'll let Joe work fast. He takes care of his baby.
Joe, Uncle. Sheriff Simpson's inside asking questions.
He wants to know where you were early this afternoon.
He wants to know where Silvio was early this afternoon.
Huh? Why does he ask about Silvio?
Demeter, don't tell him. He's out of his mind. Don't tell him yet.
What about early this afternoon?
Take it easy. He's just asking questions, that's all.
Ty Wendell has been murdered.
Ty? This afternoon?
No. No.
No, not my Silvio. Not my baby.
Silvio, Joe will take care of you.
Joe will...
Bad penny's home again, huh, Silvio?
Sure, Mr. Valentine. Hello, goddess. They located me in San Francisco.
With the bad news.
Yeah. Too bad the stroke he had.
Joe was pretty rough on people, though.
You talk to Mr. Simpson yet?
No, no, but I will.
Ty Wendell got it.
That's right. Early yesterday afternoon.
Yeah. Well, that's the way it goes.
I thought I'd better tell you something before you talk to Simpson.
Your brother mentioned he'd given Wendell somebody something like $20,000 in cash.
You see, I found the body.
The money wasn't on Wendell.
Oh, I get it. Motive robbery.
Well, we had a funny thought that probably nobody knew about that money except Joe.
And maybe you.
Oh, did you?
Well, it's just a thought.
A guy who wanted to leave Valley Sunset but could never squeeze enough dough out of his brother
might have been tempted by $20,000.
Well, it just shows how funny thoughts can be, doesn't it?
Well, I'll go down and talk to Simpson as soon as I do a little straightening up.
You mean looking around, don't you?
Like for a letter, maybe?
Yeah, maybe.
I know there is one someplace in Joe's coat prop.
How do you know?
Mailman happened to mention it. He'd given it to Joe last night.
Happened to mention it?
What did you do? Check with him on the phone before you flew back?
Worth doing, I guess. Make a perfect alibi, that letter.
Look, what's all this to you, writer?
That is, it would if you could find it.
What? You haven't got that letter, have you?
You didn't take it off at Joe?
Why do you think your brother had that stroke?
What? What do you mean?
Where's that letter? I've got to have it! I've got to have it!
Just underestimated Joe, that's all.
He's dead because he realized he failed you.
He loved you, Silvio.
And last night, even before I met him,
he'd already torn that letter up.
No. No!
I don't believe it. I don't believe that!
You have no alibi, baby.
No alibi at all.
When the dust lies on the grapevine so thick,
you can't tell what's underneath.
Whether there's ripening fruit or
a rattlesnake asleep in the hot shade.
Hey, Rachel, look, kid, snap out of it, will you?
We've got to leave you now.
I'm all right, Mr. Valentine.
Of course you are, Rachel.
Now you'll do all the things you want to.
You'll swim in the irrigation ditches
and go to the football games.
It's poetic, isn't it?
Huh?
What I mean is,
maybe I could say some of those things
Uncle Joseph thought should be said.
The vines and the earth and...
Rachel.
I think he can do it.
And Demetrio will take care of the vines.
Poetry, beauty and grapes.
You know, Angel,
I think Joe is going to have the kind of monument he'd like.
What's the weather going to be like tomorrow?
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Now ladies and gentlemen, here is Robert Bailey.
This year's nationwide polio epidemic
is the most disastrous in our history.
Money set aside to pay for care of victims
is being used up at the rate of $100,000 a day.
Without your help, this fund will be exhausted in two weeks.
So help America's children today.
Send your dimes and dollars to polio care of your post office.
Tonight's adventure of George Valentine
has been brought to you by Standard of California
on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations
and Standard stations throughout the West.
Robert Bailey is starred as George
with Frances Robinson as Brooksy.
Let George Do It is written by David Victor and Jackson Gillis
and directed by Don Clark.
Also heard in the cast were Jane Webb as Rachel,
Bill Conrad as Joe, Tony Barrett as Silvio,
Joe Duvall as Simpson and Clayton Post as Demetro.
The music is composed and presented by Eddie Dunstetter,
your announcer, John Heaston.
Listen again next week, same time, same station,
to Let George Do It.
This is the Mutual Downley Broadcasting System.
Music